Whispers in the Dark
by Amoeba
Summary: A happy Harry is rudely interrupted one blissful summer day. Mayhem, mysteries, and (possibly) murder ensue.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Draco is not mine. In our fantasy world, he is Christina's. According to the law, however, he belongs to J. K. Rowling. In fact, any characters you recognize belong to her. Fancy that. The lucky lady. If I owned them, would I be sitting here writing fanfiction? No! I'd be sitting here fabulously weathy and brilliant beyond belief. Alas, but here I sit.  
  
Prestory A/N: Keep an open mind. I know the first sentence is cheesey. I meant it to be. It'll get better, I promise. And now, without further ado:  
  
Whispers In the Dark, Chapter one  
  
It was a dark and stormy night. Lighting arched across the sky and thunder rose magnificently to the occasion. Sheets of rain poured down on a small figure lying in a puddle. It was a young man who had obviously seen better days. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, mingling with the mud on his face. His jaw was covered with fine stubble; he obviously hadn't been in a position to worry over his appearance for several days. People hurried past him on the sidewalk, anxiously seeking shelter from the rain. A few cast looks in his direction. These varied in expression. Some conveyed disgust, others sympathy. Whatever the intent, none of the passers-by stopped to help the battered man.  
  
He stirred slightly, pain evident in each movement. A muffled curse spat forth from a bloody mouth as he took stock of his condition and surroundings. Heaving a deep breath, the man tried to stand. He almost fell, managing at the last moment to support himself against a lamppost. The ache in his leg battled with hunger pangs for dominance. After a moment he gained his balance and, gritting his teeth, set out into the pounding precipitation.  
  
***  
  
Hours later, the same figure could be seen trudging up a neatly kept drive. He stopped in front of number four and took a deep breath to brace himself against the coming events. He tried to make his strides seem purposeful but the pains throughout his body checked his arrogance. A low, quickly stifled moan escaped his lips, as much from mental torture as from physical agony. He raised a bruised fist and knocked on the white door.  
  
***  
  
Another boy, green-eyed and energetic sat on the other side of the weather. He was curled up in the corner of the living room floor, reading a muggle book. His summer was going surprisingly well, against all odd. //Amazing,// he thought, //Almost idyllic. It could have been a lot worse.//  
  
A knock on the door startled him from his ponderings. He heard the loud, shrill voice of his aunt from the kitchen  
  
"Get the door, you useless thing!"  
  
The boy sighed, dog-eared his page, and headed for the entryway. He unlocked the door, turned the brass knob, and silently swung it open. His eyes widened in shock. //Spoke too soon.//  
  
"Draco, how... nice to see you."  
  
***  
  
The pale boy acknowledged his name with a sharp nod. He eyed the speaker with obvious dislike.  
  
"I promise you, Potter, the pleasure is all yours."  
  
"You're probably right. Care to tell me how you ended up on my doorstep, bruised and muddy?" Harry tried to tone down the curiosity and dislike in his voice. He wondered why his least favorite schoolmate would chose to visit him, but, burning more impatiently in his mind, was the phrase 'who did this?' Malfoy did look pretty awful. Harry wouldn't have wished this on his worst enemy. Well, perhaps on Voldemort. Other than the Dark Lord, Draco was as close to a worst enemy as Harry came. Unless you considered the death eaters, Voldemort's loyal supporters. But, aside from all those, Malfoy was first on his list of avoidable people.  
  
"In time, Potter, all will be revealed." //Good lord, that sounds so tacky. I can't believe I just said that.//  
  
***  
  
"Good lord, Malfoy, that sounds so tacky. I can't believe you just said that." Harry made a face at his classmate. Usually Draco didn't indulge in cryptic sayings. Infuriating comments were his specialty. "I suppose if you're just going to hang about bleeding, you might as well do so inside." He glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen. //My aunt might pose a bit of a problem. Thank goodness I know how to sneak. Malfoy should be capable of doing that too- he's a sneaky person// "You'll have to be quiet and discrete. My aunt and uncle don't like visitors, especially wizards. Not after last summer." He grinned, remembering the Ton Tongue Toffee that the Weasly brothers had brought his cousin, Dudley. "I can hide you though, if they don't suspect anything. Nothing short of anger would bring them into my room." His face darkened. //They find me distasteful.//  
  
***  
  
Draco tried to smirk but found that it hurt his bloody lip. "Can't think why," he commented. //I better tone it down, though, or he won't help me. How do I tell him that I need his help? What an awful thought.// His eyes widened as the unpleasant memories washed over him.  
  
Stone corridors flashed past, damp and lit by inadequate torchlight. At last, gray sky above him, thunder in the distance. Running till his breath caught in his chest. Doubling up, gasping, when he could go no further. And then a pain that was not from the exercise. After that, blackness.  
  
He shook his head to dispel such thoughts. //No matter. It will work out in my favor. I know it.... I hope...//  
  
"Well, let's go, Potter. I can't stand around all day. You'd feel guilty if I suddenly died because I didn't have medical attention." His face twisted into a smile. //ooh, should I stop baiting him? He IS helping me after all.//  
  
***  
  
"Don't count on it, Malfoy. I'd get over your loss in about two days." //Sometimes I WISH he'd bleed to death. Obnoxious git.// Harry took a deep breath. Malfoy always brought out the worst in him. Best not to rise to the too-obvious bait. //Hmm, I'd think that even someone as rude as Malfoy'd quit teasing me. I AM helping him after all.// The thought was discarded as soon as it appeared. //No, that's probably WHY he's being so gitsy. Feels helpless. If I didn't pity him all those cuts I'd have prime material for making his life as miserable as he's made mine.// The dark- haired boy sobered. //It probably already is.// He swallowed his pride and motioned the wirey blond inside. "If you drip on the carpet, Aunt Petunia will have my head," Harry told Draco, only half joking. "We'll just keep your presence on the DL."  
  
"DL?" Draco asked, puzzled. "What's that?"  
  
Harry looked surprised for a moment before his face relaxed with understanding. "It's a muggle term meaning 'down low.' Just means that we'll keep it hushed up. Hopefully no one'll know you're here." //And if they do...?// He wondered what would happen to him or to the boy he would be hiding.  
  
"And if they do?" Draco quiried. "What'll happen then?" His face paled when Harry offered no answer. "I don't need the humiliation of being thrown out of a muggle house, Potter."  
  
//I'll bet you don't. And how long would you last without a place to go?// Harry suspected that his schoolmate was injured quite badly. Without medical attention some of those wounds could get pretty nasty. //You must not have anywhere else or you wouldn't have come to me.// "I'll think of something, then. At best we can go stay with the Weasleys for a while."  
  
"I must be going deaf, Potter. I thought I heard you say 'at best' when referring to Weasel and his clan." Draco put a hand up to one ear as though hard of hearing. "Eh? You might have to repeat that."  
  
Harry smiled grimly. This was going to be a trying few days. //When will I learn that not everyone who needs my help deserves it?// "Oh no, you heard just right. Best."  
  
Malfoy groaned. "Of course, one can always hope that one is suffering from acute hearing loss. Alas." With those final words he stumbled and nearly fell.  
  
Harry reached out and caught his elbow. "Can't have that. Remember, I'm going to feel guilty if anything bad happens. And let me tell you that if you get mud and bodily fluids on my Aunt's white sofa, there WILL be something bad happening. To you, courtesy of me. I can repent later." //Good lord. Am I going to have to support him all the way upstairs? Looks like. Who would do this to him? Who could?//  
  
***  
  
Draco watched Harry sharply. He knew the other boy was curious; who wouldn't be? //It isn't every day that your least favorite person shows up battered on your doorstep. I wonder that he's not taking advantage of it.// But he knew why. Harry wasn't the type to gloat. //Damn, that makes me feel even more inferior.// He strove to drive such thoughts from his mind. Here was the only place where he was assured of safety. No one could touch him here- no one would even find him, no matter how hard he or she looked. Not his father, no one.  
  
He allowed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Potter. I'm going to owe you one," he added under his breath in a tone intended for his ears alone.  
  
"You're welcome, Malfoy. I might have to take you up on that someday, you know," replied Harry. Draco started, surprised at being overheard. The dark-haired boy continued. "What happened to you? Who--"  
  
Draco cut him off with an impatient gesture and a shake of his head. "Don't ask me, Potter. I don't want to have to lie to you. It's not right."  
  
Harry looked puzzled and disappointed, but questioned him no further. "Come on upstairs. We'd best be quiet from here on up. My aunt's the only one home- she's in the kitchen." He motioned Draco towards the hallway in which the staircase resided. "The bottom stair creaks," he added thoughtfully.  
  
The boys lapsed into silence as they managed a successfully noise-free climb. They then had to stay close to the walls through the upstairs hall because the floorboards did not bear weight without loud protest. When, at last, Harry opened the door to his tiny room Draco went in and sank gratefully down on a chair. His head felt as though a small bomb had gone off in it, followed by plenty of shock waves. He wanted an aspirin badly but would die before admitting it.  
  
Luckily, his classmate took one look at his face, reached into a drawer, and handed him two small, white tablets. "Phiddlewerp's fast-acting phrenology pills. Don't act like you don't need them," Harry advised when Draco tried to push them away. "You look like the dark wizard Grindlewald's having a field day in your brain."  
  
"Very imaginative, Potter," muttered Draco as he swallowed the pills. "You oughta write romance novels."  
  
"Oh, I'm not that far gone."  
  
"No southern belles named Savannah? No dark pirates named Roberto? No heaving bosoms?" Draco looked shocked.  
  
"Nope. Only a white owl named Hedwig and a blond boy named Malfoy," replied Harry easily.  
  
The pale boy looked horrified. "You can't write me into your tacky books, Potter! I'll be shamed across the Wizarding world!" He paused, thoughtfully. "Animal/human novels... That must say something about you, though. Ouch!" He broke off reproachfully as Harry aimed a pillow at his head. The Gryffindor seeker rarely missed.  
  
"Deserved," said Harry self-righteously. "Deserved."  
  
Draco rubbed his head ruefully. Despite his wounds and against all better judgment, he was distaste for the dark-haired boy was lessening. "Thanks, Potter," he said again.  
  
A startled expression appeared on the other boy's face. "For hitting you? Um. I'm sorry. You must be farther gone than I thought." Harry looked about him wildly, hoping for divine intervention. None came and he settled once more, watching his classmate.  
  
//I must be going insane. I never thought it would feel so. painful.// Malfoy's face arranged itself into a dreamy expression. He knew that he looked disoriented but couldn't bring himself to care. A few more seconds of consciousness allowed him to see Harry's extremely worried face swimming dizzyingly in front of him. He opened his mouth to tell Potter to keep still, but nothing came out. In fact, he could no longer see his companion. Instead, he was falling into darkness and he knew no more.  
  
***  
  
A short time later Harry stood at his open window watching a white shape fly off into the night. His owl, Hedwig, was headed for Hogwarts. Even though he'd rather keep this incident to himself, he felt that Professor Dumbledore had a right to know; whatever had happened to Draco had to be fairly important.  
  
Behind him, Malfoy stirred. Harry spun around, trying to hid a guilty expression. "How are you feeling?" he asked nervously.  
  
Draco looked at him steadily, his eyes unreadable. "You sent her off to tell them, didn't you?" He waved a hand at Harry to push back the protests. "It's all right. I knew you would." After a long pause he added, "Okay."  
  
"Okay what?" asked Harry, puzzled.  
  
"You asked me how I'm feeling and I just figured that it might be nice to answer your question eventually. So give me a top hat and call me a gentleman," answered the blond boy sarcastically.  
  
"No one would ever call you that, Malfoy," muttered Harry. He instantly regretted his sharp comment. "Sorry."  
  
"For what? It's nothing worse than what I say to you. In fact, it's downright tame."  
  
Harry was not convinced. He'd seen the well-hidden pain flash in the other boy's eyes. "I'm gonna ask you again because I want some answers. Not because I need them, but because I might just die of curiosity. And if I let it alone, no one will ever tell me anything." //What the hell happened to him?// he wondered.  
  
Draco cut him off. "You're going to ask what the hell happened to me. I can see it. I told you before that I didn't want to tell you. It's a rather unpleasant story. And besides, curiosity killed the cat."  
  
"You know I wouldn't ever use it against you. It's just not every day that someone turns up on my doorstep, especially not someone who's in pieces. Besides," he added stubbornly, "I'm not a cat."  
  
***  
  
//I know. Just another reminder how different we are. Night and day, hmm? Maybe you deserve to know. Merlin, this is gonna be like pulling teeth, isn't it?// "You haven't looked in the mirror lately, have you Potter?" he said aloud. "Otherwise you'd have seen the green eyes."  
  
The other just looked at Draco with said green eyes. He crossed his arms over his thin chest. "I'm not going to be dissuaded like this. Tell me or refuse me again. I won't have you change the subject."  
  
"It's a rather damp day, isn't it?" began Draco.  
  
"Malfoy." growled Harry threateningly. Draco grinned approvingly. He hadn't known that Harry had it in him to be threatening.  
  
"All right, I'll tell you," he said.  
  
"Oh, come on!" wheedled Harry before registering what his classmate had said. "Oh, okay," he finished lamely, his face red with embarrassment.  
  
"But not now!" replied the other sadistically, "So you can just stop asking."  
  
Harry glared.  
  
***  
  
Later that night Harry sat in a straight-backed wooden chair, watching Draco. The pale boy was, in all appearances, fast asleep. Every few moments he would toss and mutter unintelligibly. Harry didn't regret giving his classmate the bed; it was obvious that he needed care of some kind. Once again the restrictions on underage magic began to chafe. //Maybe just this once? They might not notice.// But he knew differently. He'd gotten an official warning because a house elf smashed a pudding in his house- there was no way they'd over look major medical magic. He wasn't even sure if he could do it. He'd never taken a medimagic course. Hogwarts offered one for older students but Madame Pomfrey had to give a specific recommendation. Harry was far too reckless for her to give her blessings.  
  
The floorboards outside his room creaked. Harry froze, fearing the worst. He heard his uncle grunt disapprovingly and move off down the hallway. It was many minutes before he breathed freely again. His eyes swept once more over the sleeping Draco. The inert boy moaned softly and shook his head vehemently. //He'll hurt himself. Aren't you supposed to not let the injured move? Er. Perhaps that would be 'don't move the injured.' Don't injure the movers? C'mon, Potter, think!// He snorted softly, disgusted with himself. //Completely useless and thoroughly stupid.// The other boy's voice broke his silent self-upbraiding. This time his syllables had meaning.  
  
"No- I- oh my G- please- I will, just don't-" Draco's voice held nothing less than real terror. With a small whimper of distress he sank back into silence.  
  
//So maybe they didn't have too much meaning after all. I wonder what happened to him. Whatever it was, it must have been awful. I'd like to meet up with whoever did it.// He paused a moment, noting Draco's superior height and muscle tone. //Or perhaps I'd prefer that they remain far away. Hope they don't think of looking for him here. It's the last place *I'd* look if I didn't already know he was here. Oh, boy, I'm confusing myself- //  
  
"NO!" Draco announced, loudly and fearfully. Harry knew that such a volume would have raised the dead- it most certainly had raised uncle Vernon. Acting quickly, he threw himself into the bed alongside Draco. He pulled the covers over the other boy's head and hunched up.  
  
The door to his small room swung ominously open.  
  
"Are you alive boy?" rumbled the irritated voice of his uncle.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Oh, pity. Now what was this nonsense about?"  
  
"Bad dream. Won't happen again," Harry mumbled feverishly.  
  
"You see that it doesn't or I have it in my power to make you miserable. And don't think I won't take advantage of every opportunity," hissed his guardian.  
  
"No, I'd never under estimate you," muttered the boy.  
  
"What was that, eh, boy?"  
  
"Nothing, sir. I'll be quiet."  
  
His uncle stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His footsteps, however, did not head away from the door. He paused outside it, listening.  
  
Next to Harry, Draco had a very rude awakening. Instantly the Boy Who Lived placed a hand over the other's mouth. "Silence," he whispered soundlessly, pointing toward the door. Draco didn't understand exactly what was going on, but he knew a threat when confronted by one. He obeyed.  
  
The minutes seemed like hours. Uncle Vernon at last stomped away to bed.  
  
"Does he ever do anything besides stomp and yell?" inquired Draco.  
  
"Not very often. I think I saw him breathing once, but I could be mistaken."  
  
"You're not going to make this sort of compromising position a habit, are you, Potter? Because this could look pretty bad for me if someone takes it the wrong way."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy, we didn't get caught. I did it to save your skin."  
  
"For me? I'm touched. Oh, wait, I really am. You can have your sick fantasies in your books, Potter, but I'd like to stay out of them," said Draco, grinning infuriatingly.  
  
***  
  
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Everything dripped with dampness from the previous day. Harry and Draco awoke, on such a pleasant day, to an unpleasant voice- Aunt Petunia's.  
  
"Up! Get up, lazy lay-a-bed!"  
  
Harry groaned and muttered something under his breath. Draco raised his eyebrows at the other.  
  
"That sounded suspiciously like 'rot in bloody hell.' You really are an ungrateful git."  
  
If looks could kill, he would have been reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes.  
  
"You know, I'd almost forgotten you were there," replied Harry tersely. "I'd convinced myself that last night was just a dream. A horrible dream," he added. "And I'm not ungrateful, they starved me last summer. I'm supposed to love them? They sure don't love me!"  
  
"Fine, no need to be so defensive. You could at least respect them."  
  
"It's hard when I don't matter to them. They'd be thrilled if I got myself killed," Harry said.  
  
"I respect my father," Draco muttered under his breath.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Huh? Oh- nothing."  
  
***  
  
Harry made a face. He was pretty sure Draco had just said something along the lines of 'I respect my father.' Acknowledged weakness. //How unlike you// He decided to let it pass for the moment. Information like that could be filed away for future use- and that's exactly what he planned on doing.  
  
"Well, I suppose I ought to get ready. Won't do to have her come back." He shuddered. Aunt Petunia's wake-up calls were annoying enough the first time around. If she had to come back, she became more creative than she was any other time of day. Cold water was her prime choice. Harry pushed away the fairly lousy memories and concentrated on finding a pair of matching socks.  
  
***  
  
All that morning and most of the afternoon Draco lay in Harry's bed, feeling infirm. The inactivity soon had him restless and irritable. Every hour or so Harry found a way to slip back upstairs to enforce the bed rest.  
  
"If you get up one more time," he'd threatened, "I'll- I'll- I don't know what I'll do, but it'll be drastic. And it'll involve gum." His look of madness kept Draco silent, even though Harry had left himself wide open for some more comments.  
  
At this point, however, when nearly an hour and a half had passed since Harry had last wended his solitary way upstairs, something hit the window with a sharp crash. Luckily, the pane didn't break- it didn't even crack. Draco quickly crossed the small room and opened it. Harry's white owl- was her name Hedwig?- flew inside. She deposited a letter in the general direction of Draco's head before landing on her perch. She clacked her beak disapprovingly at the intruder in her owner's bedroom.  
  
Draco bent down and picked up the thick envelope from the floor. It was addressed to him. Shrugging faintly he broke the seal and flipped it open. Sliding the heavy parchment out, he unfolded it and read it carefully several times.  
  
Dear Mister Malfoy,  
  
I am very sorry to hear of your condition. I had hoped that it would not come to this. If I were you, which, of course, I'm not, I would keep on the move. Going to Harry's house was very smart but his aunt and uncle will begin to suspect something. As soon as you are able, I strongly suggest that you come here immediately. Do not tell him where you're going. It would only worry him. The less involved he becomes, the safer he'll be. As of now, you are the only one in danger. I'd like to keep it that way- perhaps lessening the danger you're in, but certainly not spreading it. Remember, if he had not taken you in for the night, you would have been dead by morning.  
  
Yours in haste, Albus Dumbledore.  
  
***  
  
When Harry mounted the stairs a short time later, he found a hurried Draco.  
  
"I though I told you to rest," he said indignantly.  
  
"I am. Sort of."  
  
"Ah, obviously this is some new kind of rest that I wasn't previously aware of. Do you want to get better or not?"  
  
"I want to live. And, heaven help me, I want you to also. So I'm leaving. I have to go *now* or else-" Draco broke off sharply. He tightened his lips stubbornly.  
  
"Where, though? And why? You still haven't told me why you're here!"  
  
"I can't answer any of those. And this time it's not just because I want to mess with your head; it's safer this way. And since I owe you for the hospitality. Let's just say I don't like to be in debt. After this I'm done, I'm away. We're square. Don't make me lie to you," he said earnestly.  
  
Harry noted the resolution in the other's face and voice. He knew that no matter what he said, he wouldn't convince Draco to tell him anything. //I'll just have to follow him, then. I never promised I wouldn't.//  
  
"All right, keep your secrets. I can't do anything about it anyway. And I won't give you the satisfaction of begging for information," he replied sullenly.  
  
"Good. And thank you. I don't know if I would have done it for you if situations were reversed." He smiled without humor. "But then you never would have come to me. Wouldn't be able to find my house." And you have your own friends.  
  
The unspoken words hung between them thickly. Harry quickly reached over and clasped Draco's hand.  
  
"Good luck. And not too much is worth dying for."  
  
*** A/N: Umm... This is my first story in a while, as well as my first posted HP fic. Please be kind-ish on the reviews. This time around I hope to actually continue the story for more than one chapter. If there's at least two enthusiastic (or one, or even none) I'm a-gonna continue it. It's been kinda fun to write. Probably going to be all angsty and stuff later on. Right now I tried to be minimal on the emotional side of things. But stay tuned! Especially Rachel. I might make people suffer for you. Think of that! Yes, well. REVIEW! 


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